


A Part Without It's Whole

by KiwiBerry



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 3490, Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Captain Hydra, F/M, Gen, Multi, Multiverse, Not Canon Compliant, Superior Iron Man, Very loose following of comic canon, ambiguous Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22065205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiBerry/pseuds/KiwiBerry
Summary: “Tasha, look at me.”A warm hand lifted her chin, gentle and familiar. Her brown eyes easily found bright blue. God, how many times had those eyes been the last thing she’d seen before going to sleep? How many times had she woken up to them peeking beneath sleep-heavy eyelids?Natasha wanted to laugh, something sick and twisted, but she knew it would only turn into a sob.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Stark
Kudos: 31
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my piece for the Marvel Reverse Big Bang, and I had the honor of writing for this lovely piece by Jayjayverse. Their art is gorgeous, and my only hope is that I was able to do it justice. Shout to my betas, Nev and betheflame. You guys rock!
> 
> https://jayjayverse.tumblr.com/post/189860285534/art-contribution-for-the-marvel-rbb-nothing-last

Natasha removed her gauntlets with annoyance, yanking at the metal even when it pulled at her skin. The chest plate came next, then the arms. Legs. She hadn’t physically removed her own armor in years but found the act allowed her to channel her frustration somewhere that wasn’t dangerous. No, frustration was the wrong word. Too nice. She was angry now, practically furious, as she yanked off one armored boot, then the other. 

When she was finally done, gold and red armor strewn across the floor, Natasha allowed herself to sit. She felt drained suddenly - tired. Her anger had ebbed, and now all she wanted to do was lie down and have a drink. 

No, she told herself sharply, annoyed at how easily that vice had slipped into her head. No drinking. She’d promised Steve, after they’d started dating. She’d been good since then. Only slipped up once or twice, sometimes with Steve’s permission. She was better than that. She would be better. 

_But who’s going to know?_ her mind shot back, making her chest tighten and stomach drop. _He’s not here anymore._

Natasha stood. She’d go to the lab. The lab would do her good. Take her mind off things. Distract. In the lab she could be alone, tell Jarvis to only interrupt her in an emergency, and maybe breathe. Long, deep breaths. Nothing like the quick, shallow gasps she would take whenever her thoughts drifted too far, too close to the truth. _He’s not here anymore._

“Ma’am, Ms. Van Dyne is on the line. She wishes to speak to you.” 

“Not now, Jarvis,” Natasha said, waving a hand at the ceiling. “Tell her I’m busy. And send any further calls to voicemail. I’ll be in the lab. Set to Do Not Disturb mode.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jarvis chimed back in his kind, neutral voice that normally provided some kind of familiar comfort. At the moment, however, it only set her that much more on edge. 

Silence followed her down to the lab, her own footsteps sounding loud and obtrusive. She hadn’t been there in days. Too busy. It was a wreck, and Natasha welcomed it’s disarrayed form. It meant she could work, focus her energy on something she could control. FInd a solution that worked. 

As she began organizing, her thoughts drifted back to Jan. The woman would scold her the next time they were together. She always did when Natasha closed herself off from the world like this. But this time was different, and Jan didn’t understand. No one did. 

The Avengers had tried to help, to offer her condolences and suggestions. She’d hated every one of them for it. She didn’t need their pity or their sad looks. Those gentle hands on her shoulders, with unsurprised eyes. They didn’t know Steve. Not like she did. 

The note he’d left on their bedside table - written in his perfect, cursive handwriting - was vague, but not vague enough. He’d told her to come find him when she was ready. When she could accept the truth of the world. He hadn’t mentioned Hydra directly, but she’d recognized the philosophy. And that meant everyone else did, too. 

Natasha let the box in her arms settle heavily against the workbench, uncaring of the small metal bits she scattered as a result. Steve leaving hadn’t been the worst. Her teammates, her friends, telling her she needed to accept the truth and move on wasn’t either. No, the worst part of everything was the damn reality bleeds that seemed to haunt her these past two weeks. 

The bleeds never occurred at the same time or at the same place. The most recent one had appeared at the bottom of her stairs: A version of herself she didn’t recognize, kneeling and bleeding onto the floor. Facemask removed and bruises spotting her skin, eyes red rimmed and teary. 

“Please. Don’t leave me,” she’d heard herself say, reaching a dented and dirtied armored arm up the stairs. Desperate and pleading. “Don’t leave me here.” 

Natasha had moved to answer, to ask why, but the woman had vanished, blood and all. Snapped from existence like she’d never been there at all. 

She slept worse than usual that night. 

The longest bleed had occurred outside one of her favorite coffee shops, while Natasha was in between meetings and waiting on the curb for Happy to pick her up. She’d had a coffee in one hand and a donut halfway in her mouth when she’d spotted the woman. 

She was taller than Natasha and only watched her with the brightest blue eyes. Her blonde hair had framed her face, looking wet and rain soaked. She’d been dressed in all black and stood just across the street. When pedestrians walked by her, almost through her, without a single glance, Natasha knew what she was looking at. 

She’d glanced at her watch, looked both ways down the street, and crossed before she could think better of it. The woman watched her as she did, eyes never straying. 

When Natasha got close enough to touch, she’d noticed the boy. He was gripping the woman’s hand tightly and looking up at her with such confusion and sadness in his eyes. 

“Mama?” he’d said, and his voice came through like an old radio, signal staticky and distant. 

“I’m sorry,” the woman had said then, gaze still on Natasha, roaming her face as if trying to recognize, to remember. “I’m so sorry.” 

Natasha had placed her coffee down by then, easily earning concerned looks from passersby, and reached out a hand to take the pale, shaking one outstretched toward her. It was cold and weighed too little to be real. Like she’d been so close to their reality, but the slightest coding was off. 

“It’s okay,” was all she could say before the woman was gone, along with the boy. The world around her kept moving, and she was alone again.

Natasha sat down at her workbench with a groan, unfolding a physical blueprint. That was three days ago, and it’d been quiet ever since. Instead, the days were now filled with constant lectures and questions from the people she’d trusted most, those who she considered family. She understood why, knew what was at stake, but it didn’t mean she liked it. 

Upstairs there was still a folder Clint had given her. He hadn’t told her what was inside, but he didn’t have to. She knew what she’d see. What she’d already confirmed. 

_He’s not here anymore. And he won’t be coming back._

Natasha made a frustrated noise, grabbed a pen, and set to work. 

Hours later, long after the sun had set and Natasha could feel the exhaustion deep in her bones, she finally spoke. 

“Jarvis. Time?” 

“It is currently 2:49am, ma’am. Would you like a list of all missed calls since--” 

“That’ll be all.” 

Natasha stared down at her blueprint. There was a smudge on one part, ink dried flat and smeared. She needed coffee. 

Dragging herself from the lab, she shuffled up the stairs and to her kitchen. Flipping on the switch, she let herself hum quietly as she went through the motions of coffee making. 

She froze, however, when she noticed the man across the room. 

He was shorter than her, with short, black hair and a facial hair combo that made her scrunch up her nose. He stood completely still while she looked him over, eyes downcast and arms at his side. He looked a bit lost. 

“You gonna say something like the rest of them?” Natasha asked, voice low, and the man jumped. 

“You can see me?” he said, incredulous, and Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“Of course. You’re not ghosts.” The coffee machine beeped, and she grabbed a mug. She hesitated when she passed Steve’s, but thought better of it. 

“Ghosts?” The man asked before shaking his head. “Nevermind. Where am I?” 

That caught Natasha’s attention. They’d never asked her questions before. “New York,” was all she said, filling her mug. 

She turned to see the man taking the information in, understanding. There was a certain nuance to his movements that were almost too familiar. So she continued, “Which one of you is dead?” 

“Excuse me?” The man shot back, eyes wide. His hands were no longer at his side, but splayed before him. 

Natasha waved him away, bringing the mug to her lips. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll be gone soon enough.” 

With that she left the kitchen, not bothering to turn off the lights. . 

To her surprise, the man was still there the next morning. He’d wandered into her living room at some point in the night and laid himself down on her sofa. It looked uncomfortable, the way he had curled himself up against the cushions, face practically suffocated. 

Natasha sat down gently atop the armrest, placing a hand over his shoulder. He didn’t feel cold. 

“Hey. Get up.” 

The man made a small noise in reply but only buried his head deeper into the couch. Natasha grabbed his shoulder this time, shaking him. 

The man instantly startled, scrambling upright on the couch. “What--” He looked around, then up at Natasha, eyes hazy with sleep. “Who...” 

“Take it easy. I’m not going to hurt you,” Natasha appeased, raising her free hand in an offer of peace. “But I do need you to not be sleeping on my couch.” 

The man looked down and around himself, as if unsure how he got there. 

Natasha sipped from her mug, half-enjoying the man’s frantic actions. When he finally seemed to settle, sitting upright and running hands through his hair, smoothing, she continued: “I don’t know why you’re still here, but in the meantime I have a meeting to be late for. If you’re gonna sleep, please do it in a bed.” She motioned down a nearby hall. There was a guest room, practically unused. It would at least keep him out of sight for now. “I’ll be back in the evening. I doubt you’ll still be here by then, anyway.” 

The man looked ready to say something but nodded instead. 

“Great.” Natasha smiled, clapping him on the back. Again he was warm and not distantly cold like the other bleed had been. It bothered her more than she’d like to admit. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

She left him then, and prayed she’d have time for another cup of coffee.

Coming home that evening had been as familiar as anything else. The day had been all business, and Natasha half expected to come home and find Steve waiting for her. He’d always greet her with a kiss, stopping whatever he’d been working on to say hello and ask her about her day. If he was in a really good mood, he’d even go as far to cook them both dinner. 

Instead, that man was still in her home. At her kitchen island. Eating her food. 

He looked up when she entered the kitchen, mouth full of soggy cereal. 

“Sorry,” he began after a rough swallow and a cough. “I was hungry. And I don’t actually have any money on me and I didn’t want to leave, so I thought I could eat the cheapest thing you had--” 

Natasha cut him off with a hand. She sighed, pulling the tie from her hair so it fell loose over her shoulders. “Eat what you want. I’m starting to think you’re different from the others.” She pushed the open box of cereal the man’s way, offering. “Listen, I’m feeling generous. How about you finish your cereal, and then I’ll let you have a go at anything else you find. In the meantime, you wanna start from the beginning?” 

The man watched Natasha for many long moments, eyes practically studying her own; attempting to trust. She recognized the tactic well. 

“Well,” the man said eventually, reaching out a hand, “for starters, I’m Tony. Tony Stark.” 

Natasha tried not to blanche too hard at the name, an open confirmation of what she’d feared. The beginning of so many questions. “Natasha,” she said eventually, taking his hand. It was firm and warm, just like hers. “Natasha Stark.”

Watching the man—Tony, she reminded herself—walk through her home, eyes flashing between familiarity and startling realization, she couldn’t dismiss this feeling of utter wrongness coursing through her. Natasha wondered if this was what it was like to have a twin. To have someone look like you, talk like you, move and act just like you, except there was that small, nagging feeling in the back of your head reminding you of this other person’s wrongness. How they were so much not you that it almost scared you to think someone could ever confuse you for each other. 

It was strange how many similarities her and Tony held: brightest minds of the century, billionaires, heirs to a tech conglomerate, broken families, and living in their fathers' shadows. Even becoming an Iron hero. Establishing the Avengers. Meeting Steve. Their lives seemed to be a play-by-play on how a Stark from any universe came to be. Some kind of fucked up universal truth. 

Except the SHRA had broken them in this other universe, torn the Avengers and the world in half. Her other self and Steve seemed to barely even be friends now. That fact shook Natasha the most. How could any version of herself not be drawn to Steve? He was a magnet, her constant, the flame to her moth. She’d do anything for him, and it wasn’t just because they were married. And this man who’d dropped into her life couldn’t even say they were on speaking terms? 

It didn’t seem right. 

“You can stay in one of the guest rooms since I’d rather not have to answer questions if someone saw you on my couch,” Natasha explained, a careful nonchalance to her words. Not that anyone would be visiting, given recent events. She loathed intrusive questions, especially in the comfort of her own home. The one place she could still imagine Steve, her Steve, smiling at her in the kitchen or chiding her in the lab to go to sleep. 

She had very few good things in her life, after all. Best to hold on to them as long as possible. “If you need anything, food, clothes, tech, whatever it is, just ask Jarvis and he’ll order it for you.” 

“I am here to accommodate you in any way I can, sir,” Jarvis chimed in, voice sounding kinder and more honest than any AI should. Natasha always did pride herself on the fact. 

Tony raised his chin, tipping his head toward the ceiling. “Thanks, J.” 

Natasha couldn’t help but pause at the nickname, the familiarity with which the other her spoke. So similar, and yet... 

“Ma’am, you have an incoming call from Ms. Van Dyne. Would you like me to--” 

“I’m busy,” was Natasha’s blunt reply. She still hadn’t spoken to most of the team since Clint had passed her that manila folder. There was a reason she’d turned her phone off. 

“I’m afraid, Ms. Van Dyne insists. She says it is a matter of the utmost importance. It appears to involve Captain Ro--” 

“Tell her to give me the coordinates,” she interrupted, ignoring Tony’s pointed gaze. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

It was dark when Natasha arrived, landing heavily in front of a stiff looking Janet. 

“Iron Woman,” she said in greeting, gaze heavy and curious. “How are you?” 

Natasha waved the question away. “The others?” 

Janet sighed, but continued, “Hawkeye’s on recon. He’ll let me know as soon as he’s spotted anything. Daredevil’s set up a perimeter.” 

That caught Natasha’s attention. “You called him in?” 

Janet shook her head. “He showed up not long after we did. Guess we’re too close for comfort.” 

Natasha checked their location. They weren’t necessarily far from Hell’s Kitchen, but they weren’t close either. “He know something we don’t?” 

Janet shrugged. “Think he’d tell us if we asked nicely?” 

Natasha made a face even though she knew Janet couldn’t see it. “Just get him on comms. At least let us know if he notices anyone make a run for it.” 

Janet nodded, wings spreading before heading over Natasha’s shoulder. 

Natasha turned on her own comms, and Clint’s voice filtered through. 

“I’ve got eyes on about twenty. Five on the way in. Maybe seven or eight guarding the back.” 

The clump of row houses in front of her were abandoned and slowly crumbling. Warning signs and hazard notices adorned the windows and doors. Just behind a small alley lay an old warehouse, small enough to go unnoticed from the street. 

Natasha did a quick scan. “Row homes are empty. No signs of life. I’m moving in.” 

“Copy that,” Clint replied, voice still low and hushed. “No sign of the package, yet. Wasp, anything from our red friend?” 

“Your red friend reports silence on his end.” A small bubble of amusement escaped her lips then. “ And prefers it.” 

Natasha knew Clint was rolling his eyes wherever he was, and allowed herself a moment to smile. 

“Wasp on her way back to Iron Woman,” Janet continued, voice light and airy. “Hawkeye, rendezvous point?” 

“Copy that, Wasp. East entrance, on--” 

A subtle bang rang out over the comms, and Natasha felt her heart stutter. “Hawkeye?” 

Clint sighed into the comms. “I’m alright. But we got a man down in here. Can’t get a clear view of his face, but...” He paused, silent for longer than Natasha liked. “I’ve got eyes on the package. And you aren’t going to like who has it.” 

Natasha was angry. No, she was pissed. Furious. She wanted to take her husband's head and slam it against her metal one until he realized how stupid he was being. 

The worst part, however, was knowing that Steve was holding his punches. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart,” she said, mechanical voice deadly and biting. “Afraid of hurting me?” 

She raised an arm, taking the brunt of the shield that’d been aimed at her head. “You of all people should know that I like it a little rough.” 

The lack of scolding from her teammates on that one let her know that the situation was a bit worse than she’d imagined. The moment of concern left her open a second too long, however, opening her up to the sharp edge of Steve’s shield against her hip. It knocked her off balance in-air, causing her to stumble and crash into the nearest wall before sliding down it. 

“Cheap shot,” she spit as she regained her bearings, trying to stand. But Hydra goons were already on her, blasting away at her armor. They weren’t a threat, but the blast of each shot rattled her within her suit. Banging her head on one well-aimed shot certainly hurt like a bitch. 

“Stand down, Natasha. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Natasha looked up, blasting away another soldier before finally standing. Her gaze landed on Steve, and her blood boiled. “Little late for that, don’t you think?” 

She moved to aim her glove, but Steve beat her to it. He ducked behind his shield and charged her, using the full weight of his body to slam Natasha back into the wall. A shock of electricity shot through her shoulder at the impact before spreading down her body, teeth practically clacking. 

When it stopped, Steve backed away and Natasha crumpled to the floor. The suit went dark, and she sucked in a sharp breath, chest suddenly heaving. 

No power. 

She cursed as the faceplate opened, a failsafe so she wouldn’t suffocate in the suit. It’d been Steve’s idea once, back when they first met. 

Steve’s gaze held on her shoulder, and Natasha followed. A black nub of tech was latched onto her suit, lighting up red. 

“Fuck you,” Natasha growled reflexively. Steve knew how she felt about being stuck in the suit. He knew about the nightmares she’d had. The close calls. He fucking _knew._

“I’m just trying to help you.” Steve kneeled down between Natasha’s haphazard legs. She closed her eyes instinctively when he reached out a hand. She felt something grab her helmet, heard a familiar click, and when she dared to look it was to see Steve gently placing her helmet on the floor, expression soft and fond. 

“Better?” he asked, and Natasha turned her head, unable to look at the man, her husband, kneeling before her amidst the shouts of her fellow Avengers, dressed in Hydra black and red. A sick parody of his own patriotic uniform. 

“Tasha, look at me.” 

A warm hand lifted her chin, gentle and familiar. Her brown eyes easily found bright blue. God, how many times had those eyes been the last thing she’d seen before going to sleep? How many times had she woken up to them peeking beneath sleep-heavy eyelids? 

Natasha wanted to laugh, something sick and twisted, but she knew it would only turn into a sob. 

“Why,” was all she could say, heart pounding. She caught Janet fluttering around to her left. Clint on a rafter trying to provide support. She couldn’t see Matt, but she knew better than to think that meant he wasn’t around. “Just tell me why you’re doing this. Help me understand.” _Help me save you_ , she didn’t say, the words too raw and real to expose. 

Steve held her gaze, brow furrowed amidst the chaos around them. “Oh, Tasha. Can’t you see?” He waved his free arm around them, gesturing to the warehouse. “Because of this. All this chaos. We’ve tried to fight it for so long that we became blind to the solution. Chaos demands order. And order can only come from absolute obedience. The world can’t be held accountable for its actions unless there is someone to oversee their compliance. That’s all hydra is trying to do. The world needs order, Natasha. The world needs us.” 

Steve nodded between them, as if emphasizing his last words. _Us. Together._

Natasha hated herself for even considering the option. “You’re wrong,” she said finally, eyes wild like fire, holding back her tears; her utter frustration at the moment. “You’re wrong, but you think you’re right and I... Let me help you. Please.” She was practically begging now, voice sounding desperate even to her own ears. “Please, Steve. I can’t--” 

Natasha choked on her own words, throat burning with grief. She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t strong enough. She needed him to listen. She needed Steve. 

Steve’s expression held until the first tear fell. When it did, cool against Natasha’s cheek, all softness faded and his kind expression was easily replaced with annoyance and disgust. Natasha felt her heart break all over again. 

“I knew you were weak,” Steve began, standing with a sigh. “But I forgot you were stubborn, too.” He picked up his shield, looking it over before sliding his gaze back to Natasha. Vulnerability sank deep in her gut. “I see now you will be a hindrance to the grand plan. Pity. I had hoped to use you for a bit longer.” 

The words cut deep, deeper than Natasha thought they could. It left her speechless, only able to stare at the echo of a man she once knew, once loved; a husband now long gone. 

“I do wish things could have gone differently. But you know what they say.” Steve leveled the shield before himself, aimed at Natasha’s neck. He was poised to throw. “You can’t win them all.” 

As Steve pulled back, a burst of light blinded them both. An ear shattering screech followed, and Natasha recognized it as one of Clint’s arrows. 

She blinked once, twice, and then Steve was gone, lost to the dazzling white spots in her eyes. As if he’d just been a dream, or one of Strange’s illusions. 

Janet swam into her sight moments later, mask up and expression worried. 

“Tasha, can you hear me?” she said. The use of her real name told Natasha she was panicking. “Can you tell me what’s wrong with the suit? I need to get you out of here.” 

Natasha moved her head, motioning to her shoulder, but Janet was already prying the tech off. The suit came to life, and even without the helmet she could feel it rebooting. 

“Helmet,” Natasha said, and Janet pressed it into her hands gently when she couldn’t lift them. Her body ached, but she couldn’t focus on that now. “Hawkeye and Daredevil?” 

“They’re okay,” Janet assured, helping Natasha to her feet, helmet on. “Those who weren’t neutralized left with--” She cut herself off, apparently unable to say his name. 

“The package?” Natasha asked instead, realizing that, after everything, she still didn’t know what it was. 

“Gone, but Hawkeye isn’t even sure it was here in the first place.” 

Natasha wondered if that explained the lone gunshot earlier. Failure to deliver meant death when it came to Hydra. That much she was sure of now. 

“Rendezvous with the others. Compare what you saw and heard. Get a report sent to the rest of the Avengers. Whatever they’re looking for, it can’t be good.” 

Janet hesitated in their walk, having turned them toward a side exit. When they were outside, she asked, “What about you?” 

Natasha was gone before Janet could demand an answer. 

When she arrived home the lights were on, and the small flicker of hope that created within her only fueled the anger and grief raging in her chest. 

Inside, Tony was lounging on her couch, Starkpad in hand while a muted newscast mimed across from him. Natasha didn’t bother looking. 

“You know, I’ve seen that exact look in the mirror too many times to not know what it means,” he said casually, eyes only glancing up from the small display. He looked so at ease, so comfortable, that Natasha couldn’t not lash out. 

“Fuck you,” she snapped, eyes narrowed. She’d discarded her helmet when she’d landed, chucking it somewhere unseen. She’d felt like she couldn’t breathe with it on. 

“Charming,” Tony huffed, and Natasha was already itching for the fight. “Well, you know what they say: happy marriage, happy wife. In this case, however....” 

Natasha strode over to Tony, grabbing for his Starkpad before tossing it across the room. She found the sound of crashing tech made her feel a bit better, and considered heading to the lab.

“And what the fuck do you know about my life or my marriage? You’re just a broken carbon copy that the multiverse dropped on me for some fucking reason. You look like me, you may think like me, but you don’t know a damn thing about me. Is that clear?” 

Any fear at Natasha’s outburst was quickly subdued by a deep exhaustion on Tony’s face, as if they’d had this conversation before. “You’re right. I don’t know you. But if we’re as similar as I think we are, I do know one thing: You know better than to let him get under your skin.” 

Tony didn’t even need to say his name for Natasha to see red. She reached out instinctively, metal hand curling in the collar of his shirt, lifting him so his face was close to hers. 

“You don’t know anything about him,” she spat, defensive of her husband even when he’d tried to kill her only minutes earlier. He’d always been her weakness, her Achilles heel, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t punch anyone who said it out loud. As if it was a bad thing. “Just like you don’t know shit about your own Steve. You said it’d been a year since you’d even seen him, so what the fuck do you know? How can you even come close to understanding what I’m going through right now?” 

Natasha took a moment to breathe, feeling herself toeing the edge. This wasn’t helping. She might as well have been arguing with a ghost. 

“I want you out of my house,” she said eventually, quieter, and let go of Tony’s shirt. He sank back into the couch, eyes following. She could feel the armor heavy on her body now, the ache of muscle after being thrown around and slammed into walls. 

Tony’s continuing gaze was almost heavier, however, as it followed her out of the room. The metal of her footsteps too loud in the space between them. 

She didn’t need to look back to know his eyes were still full of pity. 

The next morning, Tony was gone. 

Natasha tried not to focus on the disappointment that came with the realization. 

_You are weak_ , she heard Steve say in her head. She’d heard it over and over all night until she’d been unable to counter it with reassurances and praise her Steve had offered up what felt like a lifetime ago. 

God, had any of it ever been real? 

She went for groceries that afternoon, not that she needed them. She just needed to get out of the house, do something mundane. 

She hadn’t realized she’d grabbed the bottle of wine until the cashier was sliding it over the scanner. 

“Ma’am?” they said, pulling her away from her thoughts. “Would you like this in a bag?” 

Natasha only nodded, and handed over her ID when prompted to. 

She was nearing the bottom of the bottle when she stumbled across the idea. 

She’d originally just stared at it, eyeing the dark liquid (Red. Not too dark, and only a little bitter. Enough to make Steve’s face pucker so she could tease him about it.) 

It had taken her only a few minutes, though, to find the old corkscrew Steve had bought her as a gift once. 

_Sometimes the old is just as good as the new._

The pungent smell had hit her hard, causing her to almost gag. But then it had settled, and she’d pulled out a small, delicate wine glass. The kind reserved for social gatherings or a nice dinner prepared by Steve when he knew she was coming home late. (It’d only been sparkling juice then, Steve ever supportive of her sobriety. Took it as seriously as he did everything else in his life. She loved him all the more for it.) 

But thoughts of her Steve had blurred halfway through the bottle, and only the image of this new Steve in Hydra red, face shifting so easily into disgust, remained. 

She blamed it on why she remembered Maya’s experiments. Why she remembered Extremis and how it was programmed to take away every weakness within you and turn it into strength. Power. To make you unbeatable. Invincible. 

_You’re weak_ , Steve said again, and Natasha knew what she needed to do. 

The next morning Natasha woke to find herself face down in her bed, tangled within her sheets. She was still dressed, minus the shirt thrown haphazardly on the floor. 

Her throat felt raw and scratchy when she breathed, and her head was pounding. The shame that followed was more than enough to drown it all out, however.

When she finally staggered from the bed, one hand lifted against the sun coming through the windows in her living room, she hadn’t expected to be hit with the smell of food and freshly brewed coffee. 

“Morning,” Tony said without turning from the stove. The smell of eggs made her stomach turn, then grumble. 

On the kitchen island were two empty plates bracketed by two glasses. One was filled with water, and Natasha snatched it greedily. 

“Drink too fast and you’ll make yourself sick,” Tony remarked as Natasha welcomed the coolness of the water against her stinging throat. “Tylenol’s on the counter.” 

Natasha didn’t speak until she’d swallowed two of them. “I’m a terrible cook,” she said, watching Tony slide the neatly fried eggs onto one of the empty plates. The toaster dinged behind him. 

Tony hummed as if blissfully unaware of how “Stark” and “domesticity” did not go together. “Let’s say I had a very compelling reason to learn.” 

Natasha snorted. “We both know it wasn’t out of self-preservation. So tell me, who’s the lucky lady that won over this Stark’s cold heart?” 

Tony stiffened at the words, and Natasha smirked. “Eat,” he said instead of answering, pointing to the plate closest to her. The eggs were now joined by two slices of toast and a sad looking sausage patty. 

“You didn’t have any bacon,” Tony explained while passing her a tub of butter. 

Natasha wanted to argue, but her glass of water had been replaced with a mug of dark coffee, warm between her hands. 

Silence fell between them as Natasha ate, Tony only a few steps behind. When the coffee had finally begun to go cold, her own plate smeared with dried egg yolk and half eaten toast, she asked, honestly curious, “Why are you doing this?” 

Tony owed her nothing. She’d threatened him, yelled at him, almost assaulted him last night. By the taste of her breath this morning, she must have thrown up sometime in the night. So why make her breakfast? Why come back at all? 

Tony just smiled, tearing up his bread to drag through his own eggs. “Well, it’s like you said.” There was a twinge of sadness in his eyes when he took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Self-preservation isn’t a Stark’s strong suit,” he finished around a mouthful of bread and egg, and Natasha snorted, genuinely amused.

She almost felt bad about stealing Extremis that evening. Leaving a confused and hurt Maya in her wake. 

Almost, but not quite. 

Natasha wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the lab, could have been hours, days, weeks. She’d put Jarvis on mute, forwarded all her calls to her current secretary, and got to work. 

She worked to better the Iron Woman suit, to better herself. Combining her technology with Extremis would make her exceptional again. Superior in all the ways she currently wasn’t. 

Superior to Hydra. 

To Steve. 

Natasha continued crafting and designing, unable to stop when the end result was so close, practically in reach. Only a little more and she’d be done. Only a little longer and she’d be at something akin to peace 

Her only real indication of time passing were the sandwiches and bottles of water left on one of the lab tables behind her. Occasionally, they’d be accompanied by a cup of coffee. Maybe something sweet. Sometimes, on the longer stretches, she let herself imagine Steve was still with her, warm and real and caring. 

When she finally did leave the lab, sleep deprived yet with a newfound spring in her step, it was to find Clint lounging on her couch. Eating pizza. With Tony. 

“Mind telling me what the hell you’re doing here?” she asked, loud enough for both men to hear the warning in her voice. Tony froze, having the decency to at least look caught red-handed. Clint, however, just kept eating. 

He turned around in the silence that followed, looking Natasha up and down. “Do you even know what day it is?” 

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Not the priority. Why are you in my house?” Technically, no one should know where she and Steve had been living. It was one of thousands of Stark estates, but she guessed if someone visited each one they’d find her eventually. 

Clint sighed, setting his pizza back down in the box. Tony took another bite of his. “Nice to see you, too. Look,” he began, standing from the couch and coming around to her side. “I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through right now because I really don’t. All I ask is that you let me help you. Let the team help you. You know we love you and Steve, and - as much as it hurts you to see Steve out there - know that it hurts a lot more that you keep pushing the rest of us away.” 

Clint had never been the emotional center of the team, so for him to go out of his way like this was a definite surprise. Perhaps the team was worse off than she’d thought. “Look, Tasha, we need you out there. You know you and Steve were our heart and soul. And we’re already down one of you.” 

Natasha felt the sting of those words even if Clint hadn’t meant her to. Her gaze dropped, then lingered on Tony. 

“What about him?” 

Clint didn’t even bother looking over his shoulder. “Not bad for a clone. Not as good looking, though.” He mimed around where Tony’s facial hair was, and Natasha let an honest laugh creep past her lips. 

“Hey,” Tony piped up, pizza long forgotten. “I told you. Not a clone. And I’ll have you know people say I’m very handsome in my universe.” 

Clint rounded on him with a sly grin. “Yeah, to your face.” 

Natasha couldn’t stop the bubbling chuckle that slipped out after that. God, when was the last time she’d let herself laugh like that? 

It’d felt like forever. 

She should have known the world wasn’t ready. But neither were they ready for Hydra when Steve’s face was broadcast across every television, reading off their evil intentions. 

Natasha came back to the team, and Clint promised to keep Tony a secret. For now, he was allowed in her lab, researching and tinkering with whatever he needed to get home. She knew now that he wasn’t just another bleed, and, after a few heated conversations, she promised to take him to see Reed once things settled down. 

Tony didn’t seem to mind the solitude, though. Most days she found him lounging on her couch with a Starkpad and an ever growing stack of papers or textbooks she hadn’t seen since college. A few times she thought about being nosy and focusing on the fact that another version of her from the multiverse was in her home. But then her mind would conjure harsh, blue eyes and a not so kind face and she’d remember that he wasn’t the priority. 

The only time Tony had confronted her amidst the chaos was about the drinking. It started off slow, a glass of wine here, maybe a bottle to sleep better on the weekend. But Natasha had craved more, chased a deeper oblivion where she couldn’t remember that her own husband had betrayed her, possibly lied from the very beginning. 

But she learned to ignore his remarks, just like she ignored the concerned looks of her teammates when she’d first debuted her new armor. Just like she’d been ignoring the nagging echo Extremis always left in the back of her mind or the way the blue light of her suit seemed to be bleeding further and further into her eyes, drowning out the dark, mahogany brown. 

_But everything was fine now_ , she’d remind herself multiple times a day. _It needed to be done_ , she’d say aloud when the news showed footage of her nearly killing Superia during the last battle in New York. 

_Soon this will all be over_ , she’d whisper to herself in the middle of the night, feeling cold and alone. Like she was tattering at the edges, tearing and fraying until nothing was left. 

_Sometimes sacrifices need to be made_ , she’d hear Steve say and hope to god that he was right. 


	2. Chapter 2

When Janet finally called, Natasha felt genuine relief wash over her. _This is it_ , she thought as she told Jarvis to track the location. She was halfway in her suit when she noticed Tony with her in the lab. 

“I’m coming with you,” he said firmly, expression final. Like he somehow knew she wouldn’t fight him on it. 

Extremis finished wrapping the armor around her, snug and warm like she could never get her original armor to be. “Why?” 

Tony shrugged. It was then she noticed the red gauntlets on his hands and forearms, a shadow of her old suit. Nowhere near as powerful as Extremis. “Call it a hunch, but you’re gonna need me. And I’m gonna need to be there when you do.” 

Natasha raised a brow, Extremis hovering around her face. “The gauntlets?” 

Tony smirked before powering up the gloves, glowing as he moved into a fighting stance she remembered mirroring years ago on one of her first missions as Iron Woman. “I had to do something in my spare time, right?” 

Natasha didn’t comment, but wondered: if she had been stuck in another universe with herself this long, would she be able to be as jovial and relaxed as Tony appeared?

She decided not to linger on the answer. 

“Cover your face. Clint may know who you are, but the last thing I need is the team or Hydra knowing that my multiverse twin is in the same room as me.” 

Tony chuckled, sounding eager. “I thought you might say that.” 

Natasha had honestly thought it was a joke when Tony had first shown her his “disguise”: Gauntlets adorned on both arms, dressed in all black, with one of her Iron Woman masks practically cut in half, exposing only the bridge of his nose and eyes while his hair fell freely around his head. He looked like a kid going as Iron Woman for Halloween, for god’s sake. 

When she pointed out as much, Tony’s brow only furrowed, eyes downward, wondering, and Natasha felt compelled to move on from the topic, asking him instead to at least consider wearing a bulletproof vest. 

Now, they were about two hours from the closest city, in the middle of nowhere Sokovia, entering a Hydra military base while the rest of the Avengers provided cover. 

“No comms,” Natasha whispered to Tony after wishing Janet farewell and good luck. Clint would be watching out for them from afar, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice. She half-heartedly wondered if she waved, would he be able to see her? “You ready?” 

Tony nodded, expression almost impossible to read beneath the half mask. Natasha still thought it looked ridiculous. Her gaze flickered back to the map her suit provided, a virtual screen laid gently over her eyes. 

“This way.” 

Natasha took lead, halting them whenever they came past an errant soldier, usually grouped in no more than two. There was no reason to suspect the Avengers were here just yet. They had to lay low until they were sure he was here. 

“Everything alright?” Tony asked suddenly, voice strange beneath the mechanical modulator, and Natasha felt herself twitch. She’d almost forgotten he was there he’d been following along so silently, uncomplaining unlike when he was in her home. 

Natasha blinked the map from her eyes, turning left. “Nothing. Map seems to be a little outdated. Nothing to--” 

“Outdated?” Tony interrupted, brows rising. If she could see his mouth, she knew it would be opened in surprise. “What do you mean ‘outdated’? Please don’t tell me you got us _lost inside a _Hydra base _\--”___

___“We’re not lost,” Natasha hissed, unwilling to let her voice go above a whisper. “One unaccounted for door does not mean we are lost. Hydra could have hundreds of secret rooms for all we know.”_ _ _

___But Tony wasn’t listening anymore, already taking the few steps back toward the looming, metal door they’d just passed. He tapped at the keypad, and it blinked red in return. “Can you open it?”_ _ _

___Natasha didn’t know why, but the words felt like a challenge. “Of course I can open it. Better question is, why would I want to?”_ _ _

___Tony looked between her and the door, iron gauntlets raising. “Look, if you can’t open it--”_ _ _

___Natasha moved him aside before he could finish. She raised a hand to the keypad, watching her vision go blue as Extremis worked. “I hope whatever you think is in here is worth it.”_ _ _

___She couldn’t see him, but she was sure Tony was smiling. “Me, too.”_ _ _

___With a small beep, the latch of the door clicked and Natasha’s vision cleared. A warning signaled in her mind, alerting her to the single vital sign on the other side of the door. It was faint, barely there. She frowned. “Stay behind me. And don’t do anything stupid.”_ _ _

___“Likewise,” Tony echoed, falling in step behind her._ _ _

___The room was dark, but a single brush of her hand against the wall had the lights flickering on. It was smaller than she’d imagined, but Natasha supposed if you wanted to keep something hidden, you kept it as compact as possible._ _ _

___There was a monitor off to one side, glowing something Natasha didn’t bother to decode. She was instead drawn in by the glass wall at the back of the room. Behind it was a metal table, and laid atop was a simple black box, long and sleek. Big enough to fit a person into._ _ _

___With a press of her hand the glass slid back, allowing her inside. She walked around the table, slow and careful. Extremis could tell her what was inside, but for some reason Natasha felt she needed to discover this on her own._ _ _

___When she finally moved close enough to look inside, she found the top pane of the box was clear, showcasing the person inside. She felt her breath hitch as the realization hit her, stomach dropping._ _ _

___“Tasha?” Tony ‘s voice was loud inside the empty room, startling her. He was holding open a plain folder, flipping through whatever was inside._ _ _

___“Whatever you’re about to say,” Natasha interrupted, face grim and turning back to the man beneath her. A man with familiar blond hair and bright, blue eyes hidden behind closed eyelids._ _ _

___Tony dropped the documents wherever he’d found them before coming to her side. His gaze fell upon Steve’s sleeping face almost immediately, and when he finally turned to Natasha he looked hopelessly lost; conflicted._ _ _

___“Can you open it?” he asked before she could comment on it, and Natasha couldn’t hide the quirk of her brow._ _ _

___She moved quickly to the blinking monitor, displaying what she now realized were vitals. There was a clear holoscreen against the wall, and Natasha tapped it with a finger, bringing it to life. She didn’t need Extremis to do the rest._ _ _

___When the box finally opened, top sliding with a hiss, Natasha turned to find Tony backed against the wall, staring._ _ _

___She rushed over, but not before having Extremis do a perimeter check. They’d been lucky so far not to have been interrupted. Best not to push their luck, now._ _ _

___Steve’s face twitched as he awoke, mouth opening to suck in a large breath before opening his eyes. They were hazy and unfocused, but oh, so blue and familiar Natasha wanted to cry._ _ _

___“Tasha?” Steve said finally, voice hoarse and unused as his gaze slid to hers. She let Extremis leave her hand before placing it bare against his cheek, guiding him towards her._ _ _

___“I’m here, baby,” she said as her faceplate dissolved, half-choking on the sob that crawled out of her throat. This was Steve. This was her Steve, not some mindless Hydra soldier who called her weak, saw her as nothing but a hindrance; dead weight. This, right here, was the man she loved, the man she married, the man she’d lay her life down for over and over again, and she wasn’t even sure how she knew this. She just did._ _ _

___The sound of Tony sliding to the floor, knees drawn, tore Natasha from Steve momentarily. She’d been busy helping him sit up, still extremely weakened in his state._ _ _

___“I’m glad you found him,” Tony breathed when her worried gaze looked him over, his voice sounding anything but. He raised a gauntleted hand and pressed it to his face. Breathed in. Out. When he pulled his hand away, Natasha could see clearly that he was crying._ _ _

___“Tony, what’s wrong?” she had to ask, something like guilt rolling heavily in her stomach._ _ _

___He let out a huff of a laugh, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. “Nothing’s wrong, Tasha. Absolutely nothing. He’s _alive_. How could I be anything but happy about that?” _ _ _

___Natasha could only stare at him, expression drawn as she realized he wasn’t talking about the Steve in front of them._ _ _

___“You can’t be serious? How could he...”_ _ _

___Steve looked between the two of them then, still a bit wobbly as Natasha helped him out of the box. “What’s going on, Tasha? Who is he?”_ _ _

___Natasha steadied Steve as he stood. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with right now. We just need to get you out of here.” Extremis opened comms back up, and she continued. “Hawkeye? I need evac now.”_ _ _

___Clint’s voice was clear and crisp in her ear. “On my way. Just the two of you?”_ _ _

___Natasha couldn’t help the triumphant smile on her face. “Three actually. We--”_ _ _

___A rumble shook the building, and Natasha’s smile fell. “Please tell me that wasn’t you.”_ _ _

___“Just some noise,” Clint assured. A long pause, and then. “Wasp’s got it covered.”_ _ _

___“Focus on getting out of there, Iron Woman. We’ll cover your back.”_ _ _

___Janet’s voice was bright and alive in Natasha’s ear, and suddenly everything seemed a little brighter. “I’m counting on it. Hawkeye?”_ _ _

___“Almost there. Ran into some friends.”_ _ _

___Natasha huffed, but said nothing. She was escorting Steve out of the room, watching for any guards that may come running their way. When she finally spotted Clint, she knew they were in the clear._ _ _

___“Hey, Cap,” Clint greeted, nonchalant as ever. “You always leave the house half dressed?”_ _ _

___Steve looked down at himself, bare beside the white pants hanging from his hips. Natasha resisted the urge to touch._ _ _

___Clint looked over the two of them, gaze skeptical. “He alright?”_ _ _

___“It’s a long story, but, yes. He’s alright,” she explained, knowing it was vague at best, but hoping Clint would get the hint._ _ _

___Clint, ever reliable, went with the flow. “And what about him?” He was looking over Natasha’s shoulder, and she turned to follow his gaze._ _ _

___Tony was at the end of the hall, looking right and left. He looked ready to run._ _ _

___“Tony?” she called out, stepping away from Steve. Clint stepped in without being told, catching him around the shoulder._ _ _

___“Which way?” Tony asked when she was close enough. His gauntlets were powered up, and he looked ready for a fight._ _ _

___Natasha eyed him a moment, realization dawning. “Tony, you can’t--”_ _ _

___“I’m not leaving him!”_ _ _

___The words echoed in the empty hall as another rumble shook through the base, and Natasha felt her heart break for him._ _ _

___“Tony,” she tried, stepping forward to place a hand upon his shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking, but you don’t know--”_ _ _

___“I do know,” Tony interrupted, brushing her hand away. He looked furious now, and Extremis chimed in her mind, registering him as a threat. She waved it away with a thought. “Just like you do. So either help me find him or fuck off.”_ _ _

___Natasha flinched at the words, but knew the venom wasn’t meant for her. She looked at Tony, all coiled muscles and rapid pulse, fury and desperation in his eyes. But there was something else there, almost too subtle to spot, but she’d seen it enough times in the mirror to know what it was._ _ _

___“I’m coming with you,” she said resolutely, which of course caused Steve to speak up._ _ _

___“Tasha, wait.” He faltered in his steps while moving toward her, Clint following with a steadying hand._ _ _

___Natasha met him halfway, cradling his face in her hands. “I love you so much,” she said, words as kind and warm as she could make them, and felt Steve relax beneath her palms as she pulled him in for a kiss. It was short and sweet, a promise of more to come, but she still made sure to pour everything she had into it, hoping he’d understand. “Do you trust me?”_ _ _

___Steve’s blue eyes were clear now, and he searched Natasha’s face before laying a hand over hers. He turned it in his grip, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm, feather light. “Unconditionally.”_ _ _

___“Good boy,” she teased before drawing her hands away. Extremis enveloped her again, moving over her like liquid silver, and Steve only watched, a bit awed._ _ _

___“New suit?” he asked with a smile, but it was tinted with hesitation._ _ _

___Natasha wondered how she thought she’d ever be able to live without him._ _ _

___“Something like that,” she said, turning to Clint. He looked unimpressed._ _ _

___“You two done yet? I think Hydra got more than enough video of you two “reuniting”.”_ _ _

___Natasha rolled her eyes even though Clint couldn’t see it. “Keep him safe for me while I’m gone?”_ _ _

___Clint thought threw out a mock salute, smirking. “Yes, ma’am.”_ _ _

___He and Steve took off then, back the way Clint had come._ _ _

___Natasha turned to Tony, pointing left, and followed._ _ _

___ _

___The base was chaos. As they got closer to their destination, they passed more and more guards, unable to simply change direction or lay low until they passed. Natasha wasn’t worried, Extremis more than making up any weaknesses or cheap shots, but she did keep an eye out for Tony. The more soldiers they fought, the more aware she was of how underdressed Tony was. His few pieces of armor were definitely not enough. At least she’d gotten him to wear a vest._ _ _

___It was when the alarm sounded, however, that she knew there was no going back._ _ _

___“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Natasha said as she blasted the last of the soldiers in their way. Just down the hall were a pair of large glass doors. If everything was to go as planned, he’d be there._ _ _

___Tony grimaced at the soldier beneath his boot, knocked unconscious. “Me, too. Let’s go.”_ _ _

___Natasha bypassed the doors easily, but once they were inside she paused. It was quieter here than it had been in the halls, the only sign of the alarm blaring the small dots of white light flashing above them. Something didn’t seem right._ _ _

___“Tony, I don’t--”_ _ _

___“Looking for me?”_ _ _

___Natasha froze at the voice over her shoulder, turning just in time to meet Steve’s gaze before he knocked her into the nearest piece of machinery. Her suit shook with the force, but for the most part she was unscathed._ _ _

___“Bastard,” she spat, before brushing herself off and flying back at him. Tony had distracted him a moment with a few well-timed blasts, but he wasn’t enough to take on Steve by himself. And it seemed like Steve knew it._ _ _

___Natasha didn’t hesitate as she collided into Steve, driving them both into the nearest wall. Extremis could only make up for so much of such a direct collision, but the thought bothered her less when she knew Steve couldn’t say the same._ _ _

___The wall had dented beneath their combined weight, and when Natasha backed away, Steve dropped, shield falling from his grip. She kicked it away before kneeling down before him. He shook himself a moment, before moving to strike. Natasha grabbed him by the neck before he could, slamming him back against the wall._ _ _

___“You think you can use me as you please? Take my husband’s face, his legacy, and twist it to your liking?” She slammed him again, and when Steve’s head dropped, she gripped his chin, lifting it in a sick parody of their last meeting, only weeks prior. Her faceplate dissolved, a part of her needing him to see her. To see what he created. “Let me tell you something. You see, I know my husband. And you?” She dug her nails into his skin, almost wishing she could draw blood. “You are not him. You are nothing but a pathetic imitation of a man you could never, ever be.”_ _ _

___“Natasha, stop.”_ _ _

___Tony’s voice cut through her fury like cold water, and she hesitated enough to not notice as Steve reached toward his suit, drawing a weapon. She barely dodged the blade aimed at her face, Extremis saving her from even a scratch. Even with a knife, he still wasn’t a threat._ _ _

___But when Natasha had reared back, Steve hadn’t continued after her. Instead, he’d lunged toward Tony, only a few steps behind them now._ _ _

___“Tony!” Natasha shouted, but she wasn’t able to get there in time. Steve had lashed out at Tony, knife catching him in the shoulder and Tony yelled in pain. Steve took the moment to retrieve his shield, before turning back to Tony, expression hard and unnerving._ _ _

___Tony grunted in pain as he yanked the knife out, staring at it before throwing it to the side. He rolled his shoulder, wincing as he did. Natasha didn’t have to rely on Extremis to know he was bleeding, and badly. He needed help._ _ _

___“Tony,” Natasha tried again, rushing to his side with a well-aimed blast at Steve for cover._ _ _

___Tony brushed her concern aside, gauntlets raised. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”_ _ _

___“But--” Her words were cut off when Steve’s shield came flying at the both of them. Natasha deflected it, and Tony ducked before throwing out his own blast. Steve dodged easily, grabbing his rebounded shield, before charging again. Natasha moved out of the way, but Tony remained planted, firm and bracing as Steve approached him._ _ _

____Idiot_ , she thought as she watched the two of them crash into a nearby computer station, holoscreens cracking and papers flying as they grappled. Steve obviously had the upper hand, but Tony put up one hell of a fight, and Natasha felt an odd surge of pride rush through her. _ _ _

___They were too close in combat for Natasha to risk a blast, so she hovered just outside, trying her best to keep track of Tony. Eventually Steve reared back, aiming his shield at Tony’s unprotected head, and Natasha took the opportunity to bodily pick him up and throw him off of Tony._ _ _

___Tony breathed a sigh of relief, before righting himself._ _ _

___“You alright?” she asked, offering a helping hand. Tony took it gratefully._ _ _

___“I’ve been better,” he admitted, before his eyes were searching for Steve again. “Look, I have a plan--”_ _ _

___Steve’s shield came flying between them, and Natasha took the moment to shove Tony out of the way before grabbing the thing and chucking it back Steve’s way. But Steve didn’t seem to notice, simply collecting the returned shield before aiming it at Tony. It made sense. He knew he couldn’t beat Natasha, not in her current armor. Tony was a weak point. He could go through him to get to her._ _ _

____Stupid_ , she cursed at herself as she watched Tony take Steve’s shield to the face, splitting his Iron mask. She hoped it had absorbed most of the blow. _ _ _

___Face now exposed, Natasha could see that Tony’s nose was bleeding, and his jaw was already bruising from the impact of the shield. Not good._ _ _

___Steve took the moment to slam Tony into the nearest piece of machinery, pinning him to the metal at his back._ _ _

___“Let him go,” Natasha demanded as she charged at Steve, but the man only raised a hand, turning her way._ _ _

___“Come any closer and I crush his trachea.” It wasn’t just a threat. It was a promise._ _ _

___Steve turned back to Tony, hand wrapping around his neck that much tighter, practically lifting him off the ground. “Who are you?”_ _ _

___Natasha could see Tony break at the words, but he didn’t show it in his face. Instead he tried for a smile of all things._ _ _

___“What, can’t recognize your own Stark?” he wheezed, voice barely there as Steve cut off his air._ _ _

___Steve narrowed his eyes, searching Tony’s face. It seemed to only frustrate him more. “Natasha Stark. Only child to Howard and Maria Stark. No other living relatives.” He said the words so matter-of-factly, yet even Natasha could sense the hesitation in them._ _ _

___Tony tried for a shrug, but it was a bit hard when his feet could barely touch the floor. “You always....believe what Nazis tell you?”_ _ _

___Steve growled, but he didn’t move. If anything, his grip seemed to loosen as Tony sucked in a large breath of air, chest heaving. He was still bleeding, yet the mock smile on his face only grew, seeming almost genuine. “That’s my man,” he said, low and fond, and it caused Steve to falter in his grip enough for Tony to drop to his feet and lean forward._ _ _

___If anyone had asked, Natasha wasn’t sure “Tony Stark had kissed a brainwashed clone of Steve Rogers into submission” was exactly the best way to depict the finishing blow of a battle, yet there was no other way she could think to describe what she was seeing. Before she could question it much more, Steve was dropping to the floor, out cold. Tony let him go, leaning back heavily onto the metal he’d been pinned against, hand on his shoulder._ _ _

___Natasha was at his side before his next breath. “Are you alright?” she asked, Extremis already scanning. Nothing too serious, but he was losing blood, and fast. “We need to get out of here.”_ _ _

___Tony tilted his head down at Steve. “He’s coming with us. The shock should keep him knocked out for a few hours.”_ _ _

___Natasha followed his gaze, finding a small nub of black tech leached into Steve’s neck, similar to the one he’d used to drain her own suit. “When did you--”_ _ _

___Tony shrugged. “I had a lot of free time. And some of your teammates write excellent reports. Thought it might come in handy.”_ _ _

___Natasha almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. “And the other part?”_ _ _

___Tony’s face blanched, and she reached out a hand, wondering if he might pass out. But he waved it away, suddenly looking exhausted. “Adrenaline rush?”_ _ _

___Natasha wanted to pry, but knew now wasn’t the time. “Can you walk?”_ _ _

___“Well enough. Can you carry him?”_ _ _

___Natasha grimaced, looking down at the unconscious man. The urge to kick him in the head was growing stronger the longer she looked. “If I must.”_ _ _

___ _

___Leaving the base was slow work, but luckily Janet had showed up not long after their departure, fussing over Tony as she helped him walk. When they met up with the rest of the team, no one spoke about the man in Natasha’s arms. Nor did anyone ask about the identical man who’d returned with Clint earlier. Natasha was thankful for it, especially when she could see their questioning gazes already flickering between her and Tony._ _ _

___It was one of the reasons she volunteered herself to patch him up on the flight home. She made sure to tuck them in their own corner, away from prying eyes, but most were too distracted by the Hydra-adorned Steve slumped against the wall, still out cold. They’d restrained his hands and feet with vibranium cuffs, just to be sure, while Clint sat nearby, at ease but ready to strike if need be. They weren’t naive enough to let down their guard just because their enemy wore the face of a friend. At least, not anymore._ _ _

___Tony hissed in pain, pulling away from Natasha’s prodding hands._ _ _

___“Sorry. Sorry,” she apologized, releasing her grip on the bandage she was wrapping around Tony’s shoulder. “Too tight?”_ _ _

___“What gave it away?” Tony mumbled , shifting in his seat. It wasn’t until they’d removed the vest that Natasha realized how much blood had soaked into his shirt. “You okay?”_ _ _

___Natasha raised a brow, gentler now with the bandage. When they landed, she’d get him to a real doctor. “I should be asking you that.”_ _ _

___Besides the stab wound, Tony was still sporting a fractured nose, slight tracheal trauma, and a few large, well-aimed bruises. The one on his face was particularly impressive._ _ _

___Tony almost laughed. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve had much worse.”_ _ _

___Natasha hummed, tying off the bandage before making sure it would hold. “I don’t doubt it. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”_ _ _

___Tony froze beneath her touch, gaze flickering for only a moment._ _ _

___“He’s not going anywhere. Not without you,” she continued, keeping one hand on his shoulder, feather light._ _ _

___Tony tried to force a smile, but it never reached his eyes._ _ _

___ _

___After holding a very long, overdue de-briefing, Natasha had dismissed the Avengers, refusing further questions for the time being, and vowed to focus her attention on Tony. He deserved that much from her, after everything, and Steve seemed to understand once she explained. To him, it had only been a few days, locked inside a cryo induced sleep, and he listened as best he could to what had happened in the weeks since he’d be gone. She kept out the parts about Extremis and her drinking, just for now. They’d have time, when the dust settled, to pick up their own pieces and mend what had been once thought lost. But Tony didn’t have that luxury, and she felt the weight of that knowledge heavy on her shoulders._ _ _

___Reed, of course, was more than willing to welcome her multiverse clone into his lab, and, with the three of them working together, it didn’t take long for a multiverse gate to be added to the list of insane and otherworldly things they’d built together over the years._ _ _

___“You think it will work?” Natasha inquired as she and Tony watched Reed power the machine up. Turned out those crystal shards Hydra had been looking for were pretty useful._ _ _

___“God, I hope so,” Tony sighed, eyes wide as the portal grew before them, ominous and dark._ _ _

___Once they’d left the quinjet, they’d had to put Steve, Tony’s Steve, on ice or risk him trying to kill them all over again. Natasha had offered to help him reverse whatever Hydra had done to Steve, figure out how they’d pulled him from his own world into theirs, but Tony had politely declined._ _ _

___“Right now, I just want to go home,” he’d said, looking exhausted yet still determined. Hopeful. “We can figure out the rest from there.”_ _ _

___Natasha clapped a hand on Tony’s shoulder, mindful of his injury, and watched as Reed powered down the machine, portal blinking out of existence. It was still almost too surreal to think about._ _ _

___“How about a nice dinner before you go? My treat, of course.”_ _ _

___This time, Tony didn’t brush her hand away. Instead, he smiled, showcasing the yellowing bruise on his chin. He looked like shit. “Of course.”_ _ _

___ _

___The next morning, Natasha said goodbye to Tony amidst very little fanfare. Clint was there, mostly because she’d asked him to be, just in case. Reed of course was manning the machine, and Tony was maneuvering the floating box his Steve was resting in. It was so similar to the one she’d found her own Steve in that she couldn’t help the feeling of wrongness that came over her at the sight. But she knew it was for a reason, and that he’d wake from it eventually just like her Steve had and Tony would be there to help him, just like she’d been. That thought comforted her the most._ _ _

___Tony turned to Clint and Natasha as Reed powered up the machine, eyes looking a bit watery. “Well, I’d say it’s been fun, but....”_ _ _

___Natasha chuckled, before pulling him in for a hug. It startled Tony, but it wasn’t long before he was leaning into her touch, squeezing back just as tight._ _ _

___“Stay out of trouble, okay?” he said when they pulled apart, and Natasha didn’t miss the implications._ _ _

___“Don’t worry,” she assured, patting his biceps with both hands. “I’m sure he’ll set me straight. Always does.”_ _ _

___Tony smiled, seeming satisfied. “Yeah. I get that.” He turned to Clint then, looking suddenly awkward. “Well, I can’t say I got to know you very well, but--”_ _ _

___“Oh, shut up,” Clint said before pulling him in for a brief hug, one hand lingering on his shoulder. “It was fun while it lasted. Just, when you get back, maybe shave the mustache, yeah?”_ _ _

___Tony frowned, but couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes. “I’ll keep it in mind.”_ _ _

___Reed called Tony forward._ _ _

___“Guess it’s time,” he sighed, moving back toward Steve. He placed a hand over the clear glass, gaze weary._ _ _

___“Hey,” Natasha spoke up, and Tony’s head whipped her way. “I was wrong, before. When I said you don’t know him.” She gestured with her head toward Steve, peaceful and still inside the vibranium container. “Turns out we’re pretty similar after all.” She threw in a wink, just to make sure he couldn’t miss the implication.._ _ _

___Tony’s expression instantly dissolved into one of embarrassment, and he quickly tried to cover it with a cough. “Oh. RIght. Well, then. I’ll, uh, be off.” He took the last few steps toward the portal, guiding Steve along with him, before stepping through. Natasha watched as he sunk into the dark blue light until there was nothing left of him or Steve; as if they’d never been there at all._ _ _

___Reed powered off the machine after a moment, and Clint turned to Natasha, curious._ _ _

___“You alright?”_ _ _

___Natasha nodded, unable to look away from the portal just yet. “I think I will be,” she said, the words feeling more than honest. As if she were speaking to the multiverse; some kind of weird universal certainty. “We both will.”_ _ _

___ _

___Worlds away, two missing men appeared within a baffled Reed Richards lab, and Tony swore he could feel the entire multiverse sigh in relief._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me to write a sequel to this with Tony and brainwashed Steve at daydreamjamesdean on tumblr


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